Welcome to Insanity
by Ruthlessly
Summary: I hated new kids. But something caught my eye about this one. He seemed to be one of the sane ones. One of us that didn't belong. But he was here, and I guess that means we have to welcome him to insanity. Creek. Cryde. Pending pairings.


**Chapter one**

**New kids**

– – – – – – *****

**Craig**

"Did you hear"

"New kid?"

"Ew."

Ew is right.

I push the mushy green substance on my lunch tray to the side, not finding it to look all too appetizing. There is a silence that contributes to my own-and I can feel my 'buddies' glance at me as dig my hand into my bag of popcorn. Treats for good behavior.

Woop-to the fucking-ee. 

Without looking up, and for no particular reason- I raise my middle finger and continue to glare down at the treat. Reading the label and taking in the food that look so foreign in this distant land.

I hated the thought of a new kid. Coming in and trying to be far from everyone else. I could understand the distance if you were going to one of those short term hospitals. Somewhere where you stayed a month. Two at most. They say its not to best to become friends with people in the hospital, you never know what that could lead to. But this was 'South Park Psychiatric Ward'. You better pray that your parents are willing to sign you out. Here. You NEEDED friends. Or your life would be pretty miserable.

This wasn't short term. This was court ordered or somewhere you went when you were seriously—**fucked up**.

Though, most understood this after awhile.

I look up for a brief second though, take in the scene of a tanned brunette picking at his Food.

He never got it.

"C'mon Craig! We're leaving for group!" I snap out of my little trance and look up at Clyde. He has one hand rested on his hip. I am tempted to grab his other hand, which was scratching at his scalp. Its something I found disturbing, but something he never takes note of himself doing.

So sighing, I stand up and dust the invisible dirt off my clothes. My hand reaches out to my tray to make it neat and tighty before I throw it out—but I can feel my companions exhausted eyes rested on me, and I feel everything inside of me tense up. But I shake my head and rest a hand on his shoulder. A hand thats supposed to be kept to myself. (But who ever follows the P.C rules?) We begin to make our way out of the cafeteria and I look back for a quick peek at the tanned boy. But he is gone. Probably already in the group room.

* – * – *

"Group, if you not informed you are now. We will be having a new patient. Mkay?"

I can here the groans of distaste and feel the mental eye rolling of my peers.

The rumors were true.

I fold my arms, slightly peeved. I have stated my reasoning for disliking new kids and my point has been spread across. I just wish we didn't have to go through this bullshit again. I remember the chairs that flung across the room the last time we had a new kid. That new kid being the short, skinny red headed bastard. No I wasn't fond of Kyle. He was locked up in this jail cell for anger issues, attempting to murder a fat—racist ex boyfriend that drove him over the deep edge. To add to this—he 'sees' things. An over active imagination that almost got me in trouble. Stupid imaginary trip to Peru.

I look over to Clyde who has his usual sad expression on his face. I can tell he was anxious because he was picking at the fresh, new scab that he obtained from a stolen staple.

Sighing, I rest a hand on his knee and he looks up at me with his glassy brown eyes. I move my lips; forming the words 'stay calm'. He understands this, being an avid lip reader and nods.

"Mkay group, He will be joining us shortly, lets make him feel welcome. mkay?" Mr. Mackey, the group counselor says. He looks around the room and then stands up. Walking over to the white board.

The green clad man picks up a marker and begins to sloppily write out the words;Welcome. I guess this was idea of being a friendly . To me it looked like everyone in this group looked less than so. I sigh, this was sad. So sad. But I guess I'd just play along with it. I mean—I am one of the old patients, these kids were all new to me and I grew fond of atleast three of them. The other 6 I hardly knew or didn't care for.

Mr Mackey smiles at us as he walks back to his seat.

"While we wait you may talk amongst yourself. Mkay?"

We all grunt in approval.

Quickly, I look past Clyde and over to a black boy with dreadlocks extending down to his shoulders.

"Token, what do you think hes here for?"

The dark boy looks over my way and rolls his eyes. This was our normal conversation when it came to the new kids.

"Suicide."

This was a typical answer for Token. He always jumped to conclusions about suicide and it was a half-half situation. Half of the time he was right, the other half he was wrong. But he was mostly right.

"We'll see." Is all I say. I'd be sooo happy if this kid would hurry up already. I wanted introductions to be over with and I know everyone else felt the same way. I close my eyes, thinking.

There is silence among the three of us. This was our group, minus Jimmy. Who was discharged a week ago. Life inside this Ward seemed dull without him, seeing as he always had some joke to entertain us with. See if he knew today was fishsticks day; we would have been roaring with laughter. Our giggles and expression of happiness echoing throughout the cafeteria. But instead, his absence left us in an awkward silence.

He was probably the only sane one of us.

I guess I must have been in lala land or something. Because before I know it there seems to be someone peeking through the crack of the door.

"Mkay, Tweek. Please come in we'd like to introduce you to our group." Mr Mackey says.

Tweek?

What, was this kid on drugs or something? _Tweek_? **Seriously**? I lean back in my chair and take in his appearance as the boy comes into the room. His body seems to be shaking and jittering and he has his hair bunched up in his fist wheer he is tugging at it. This action reminds me of Clyde. And I groan in distaste. Now I had another thing to freak me out.

"G-gneh!" The boy shouts as he takes a seat. Mr. Mackey smiles at him and then turns his attention to the rest of us.

"Mkay, lets start with Stan."

Stan, a boy who was rocking back and forth in his chair looks up at the shaking boy and puts on a shy smile. He was someone I had nothing against.

"Hey, My names Stan. I'm 17 years old and I am here for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and anxiety." He looks about ready to throw up.

Next in line is my favorite red head, Kyle. The jewish boy rest his chin on his palm, a smile smile adorning his face.

"Oh well, I'm Kyle. I am here for anger. I tried murdering my ex boyfriend, also. I see things...and I am 16 years old." He just keeps on flashing that stupid, fake smile of his.

I turn my attention to the familiar tan boy from earlier. His gaze is down on the ground. He does not say a word, but we all knew he acknowledged the fact that it was his turn.

"Mkay, thats Christophe. Hes not a man of many words, mkay." Mr Mackey speaks up for him.

The next person has his arms folded. I never really knew his name as I never paid attention in that group. He looks up for a split second and than looks back down.

"Kenneth. 17."

There is silence, but no one says anything.

The silence, however. Is broken by a the shy voice of a Chinese boy.

"I am Kevin. I'm 15 and I am here for suicide attempts."

Kevin was never one to speak, and I was almost surprised to hear him say something in group. But as of late his mouth has been moving and he has been sitting with us at lunch. The kid was opening up.

The next person jumps out of his seat and shouts out a loud 'Hello!' which causes Tweek to squeek.

"HI. I am Pip, it is ever so nice to meet you. I am nothing more than a 14 yearold boy. I have a split personality."

Pip was the butt of every ones jokes around here—and of course he'd jump on the opportunity of making a new friend. None of us were his, after all.

Its Token's turn and he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"I am Token, I am 17 years old and I'd rather not say why I am here." this is all he says as he turns his attention to the window. The outside world looked fascinating to him. But hell, not to me.

Suddenly I realize whos turn it is and I look nervously to Clyde. He is taking a deep breathe; eyes closed.

"I am Clyde. I am here for anxiety and multiple suicide attempts. Bipolar and...cutting." He says it so calmly and I smile inwardly at this. He seems to be getting better.

And than that leaves me. I look down and take deep breathes. I hated doing this; because no one ever believed me...

"I am Craig. I am 16 and I am here for defending my little sister. Which apparently equals attempted murder."

There is silence again, that awkward silence. Mr Mackey stares at me, blankly.

"Mkay Craig, we went over this."

And we leave it at that. The blond haired boy looks down and we all stare him down, waiting for him to speak. He only looks up, smiles and stands up. He walks almost confidently- as confident as you can appear while shaking. And grabs a marker. He has this neat handwriting that is represented on the white board as he writes down something for our eyes.

When he is done writing, he stands away from the board.

'I don't speak anymore'

We all look at each other. And suddenly...I feel this feeling of warmth. I didn't feel as hostile.I actually felt like I could take a liking to this boy. I mean—someone who won't eat my ear off? Thats a plus!

"Thats retarded," I look over to the owner of the voice. Kenny. He still is glaring down at the ground, that same expression of his plastered onto his face,

I stare at him blankly—and then look up at Tweek with that same blank look. He seems to ignore this; as he steps away from the board again. New words written down.

'My name is Tweek, I am 15, and I am here for suicide, cutting, also—I see and hear things, as well'

I smile lightly and look to Clyde who also has a small smile on his face. We are thinking the same thing. And I knew it.

This kid is going to mean something.

We both stare at him as he sits down, watch as he runs a hand through his frizzy, messy hair. And both exchange glances every once and awhile.

_'Welcome to insanity'_

I think to myself.

***– – – – – – **

**Well there you go! I am putting my other story on hold because I really want to get this finished. I am going to work on it constantly and try to have a chapter up at least twice a week. **

**This is all based off what I learned from my own personal experiences. ^^**


End file.
